


Cold

by PraiseGenki



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, Comfort Food, F/M, Fever, One Shot, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:35:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25763008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PraiseGenki/pseuds/PraiseGenki
Summary: You're down with a sickness while Jamison is away. You receive a call from him and you're surprised by his thoughtful efforts.
Relationships: Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes/Reader
Kudos: 40





	Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first fanfic. I hope you enjoy this lil fic of our favorite trash mouse.

Junkrat had been on a mission for 2 months and ever since then, it had left your apartment cold and silent. Your health had been on a decline as well. You had been working hard at your job because there was nothing else to do while Jamison was away. You had to keep busy. So busy, you forget to take care of yourself. You've missed meals, had little to no sleep, and had very little time for yourself.

At this day you are down with a very dangerous fever with cough and colds. You're stuck in bed under several bed sheets you have gathered to cover you up in a nice burrito. The last temperature taken was 10 minutes ago and it was a whopping 48°C (118.4F). You haven't eaten in 2 days. Either you had no appetite, or you couldn't bring yourself to make your own food. At this point, you were really weak and could only muster enough energy to sneeze on tissue rolls you have beside you and discard used tissue at the nearest bin. Coughing drains your energy further. You haven't told Jamison about this because you didn't want to worry him while he's on a mission. What you didn't know was that he's already on his way home. 

-Overwatch ship-

Junkrat was seated at the back with Roadhog. Jamie was enjoying a pack of beef jerky he got from their last destination.

"Ow! FUCK!" Jamie suddenly exclaimed as he bit his tongue. 

Roadhog turned his head from the book he was reading to him and just gawked in silence. 

Junkrat put his tongue out and took a closer look because he started to taste something metallic in his mouth. 

"Ah blimey. My tongue's bleedin', mate" he talked while holding his tongue in one hand. 

"Maybe someone's thinking of you." Roadhog quietly huffed. 

Junkrat took his phone out of his utility belt and sighed when he saw nothing new from his inbox. He hasn't texted you because he wanted to surprise you. Little did he know that you badly need to hear his voice and reassure you that everything will be fine and that he'll take care of you. 

After a few moments he decides to give you a call because he'd been wondering why you hadn't checked in on him for days. 

Your phone rings and you take a moment to unwrap yourself and sit upright to answer the call. 

"Hello, darl. Hey, can you hear me?"

"Yes. Loud and clear."

"You sound all nasally. Are you alroight?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just have a stuffy nose."

"You don't sound right. You're not fine, Y/N." 

"Okay, okay. I'm not fine. I feel terrible."

"I think I get it. Say no more."

"Oh?"

"I'll rescue you."

You giggled at that. "Thanks, superman."

"No problem, my darl-" 

The line was cut off. Regardless, you had butterflies in your stomach. You knew that Jamison could be sweet but being in this bad state, you couldn't help yourself and let your heart flutter at the sentiment. 

You wrap yourself again under the sheets and closed your eyes to wait and sleep. 

A few hours later, Jamison is at the door, struggling to fish the keys from his pocket while he has food and drinks' plastic bag hanging on his wrists. He finally gets the keys and twists the many locks you have on your front door. You can never be too sure in this neighborhood and knowing that you have an Overwatch agent living with you, you had to take extra precautions to protect yourself and your home. 

Jamison trudged in and closed the door with his peg leg. Locking the doors again before stowing the keys at the keyholders. It was dim at the living room; the only light source was the bathroom light next to your open bedroom door. He wasted no time getting to you. He marched through the bedroom and turned the lights on. You were in deep sleep; you haven't noticed his presence yet. 

He sits at the side of the bed and settled down the food at the side table. He brings up his good hand to put it on your forehead to get a feel of it and slowly slid it to the side of your neck. Not good. Very bad. He leaves the bed and goes for the kitchen. You felt and heard him leave. You fight the crust in your eyes and blinked a few times to adjust your sight. 

You heard cluttering of utensils at the kitchen and you looked at the wall clock to check the time. It was 3AM. Oh shit, you might have missed your meds. Your throat felt itchy and you had to howl and cough a few times. 

Jamison came back to the bedroom with cutlery in his hand and a cold pack on the other. 

"You're awake." He spoke quietly and you just blinked. You couldn't speak because your throat was hurt from coughing. 

He set the cold pack to your temple and put the cutlery at the food bag. He leaves for the bathroom this time and came back with a wet face towel. He carefully sat down beside you and wiped your eyes with the towel. After doing so, he kisses you on your cheek. You smile weakly. Oh my lord, you're so lucky right now. 

"Are you in the mood to eat?" 

You nod. Not really in the mood but you have to. 

"We're having seafood fried rice and bubble tea." He looks at you hopefully. 

You nod again and clear your throat. 

"Help me up."

He removed the layers of sheet and wraps both of his arms on you to lift you up. You move gently and sit upright on the headboard. He carefully brings up a hand to move your fringe to the side because apparently it has clung to your forehead due to sweat. He then passes the cutlery and the box of rice to you. You're too weak to hold them so you shake your head. 

"I'm sorry. I don't think I ca-" 

"It's okay, darl. I got you." he insisted. 

He fed you and gave you your medicine. He also went the extra mile to give you a sponge bath. He figured you'd need it to lower your temperature. 

He took the temperature and it was lowered to 41°C(105.8F). Good enough. Tomorrow he will call Mercy to consult about your illness. 

You feel a bit better now. As Jamison was removing his peg leg, you faced his back and you moved closer to wrap your arms around him. He flinched a little, not in surprise but because of your heat. You said, "Thank you so much, love." He smiled at that and said "I love you, Y/N. Next time, lemme know that you're sick, yeah?" he lifted his metallic hand to brush a thumb on your cheek.

“I will. I’m sorry.” You looked down.

“It’s okay, love. No need to apologize.” He assured.

You two slept together in each other’s warmth. Not worrying anymore since Jamison is by your side.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to hydrate, kings and queens!


End file.
